Читать книгу Where It Began - Kathleen Pickering - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

THE LATE-MORNING SUN splashed clear to the sea bottom as Daniel negotiated the Honora through the shallow water of the Bahamas’ West End and into the harbor without a hitch.

Maria had awakened and still lingered against the cockpit pillow, sipping coffee, her tanned feet peeking out from beneath the sheet. He’d suggested she sleep topside to keep the queasiness away. She’d slept within an arm’s length of him through the night, like a talisman.

It hadn’t taken long for Daniel to finally relax into sailing mode, aligning his body to the movement of the ocean, riding with the wind while his self-doubt disappeared behind the wake of the Honora. The sailboat skimming along alone in the night while Maria slept erased the last vestiges of fear he harbored about his ability to sail. While the seven-hour journey left him tired, he felt stronger than he had in a long time.

Earlier he had put the Honora on autopilot, hoisted the yellow quarantine flag for customs entry, brewed coffee in a thermos and buttered rolls to have waiting when Maria awoke. She wouldn’t be seasick for long, but until her sea legs kicked in, he wanted to pamper her. Hell, nothing had changed for him. He wasn’t the one who forgot they were lovers.

She yawned. “I’m feeling drowsy from the seasickness pill.”

“It’ll pass.”

She slid her sunglasses on. “So, this is West End.”

She spoke the words with open curiosity. West End boasted little more than an updated marina. The yellow, pink and turquoise buildings with aluminum roofs and white porches were recent additions.

Daniel pointed to the sun-drenched buildings along the beach. “That’s the resort. If the Honora isn’t comfortable for you, I can book you a room.”

She shielded her eyes from the sun. “Looks sweet, but I’m fine on board.”

Score one for the home team. “Well, then, other than a few packaged goods and supply stores, there’s not much here.”

Except for the large number of boats in the marina, West End seemed basically vacant. The flat sandy terrain, easy view of the water and the intense light of the Bahamian sun made this remote spit of land an oasis for weary sailors.

A smile creased those pouty lips. “I could paint this.”

While Daniel docked the boat, secured the lines and jumped off to tip the dock attendant for his help, Maria had watched from the cockpit, looking distracted. Daniel wondered if the docking routine had seemed familiar to her.

He stepped up the gangplank. “If you get your passport, I’ll clear us through customs. Until we’re cleared, I’m the only one permitted ashore.”

He found it interesting that she stayed put until he returned from below deck with his paperwork. He cooled his heels for five minutes, while she disappeared to retrieve hers.

“What? You didn’t trust yourself to be alone with me in the cabin?” He grinned when she climbed back to the cockpit.

“In your dreams, Captain,” she said, handing him her passport.

“There’s that.” Okay, friendly banter. So far, so good.

She peered over his shoulder. “Where’s customs?”

He pointed to a small coral-colored building with a slanting, shingled roof next to the fueling station. “There. I won’t be long. If you want to freshen up, we can look around when I get back.”

Thirty minutes later, quarantine flag down, Bahamian visitor’s flag hoisted, Daniel offered Maria a hand as she descended the gangplank. To his surprise, she took it. He appreciated how the breeze teased the white embroidered sundress against her curves and showed lots of smooth, tanned leg. The white thong sandals looked sexy on her feet. She seemed glad to be on dry land, but remained silent.

He wouldn’t question how relaxed she had become with him. He didn’t want to disturb this fragile, unspoken truce.

She pulled her elbow from his grasp, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I could use a cola. My stomach needs bubbles.”

He laughed. “Bubbles it is, then.”

She turned to view the marina, the small harbor ringed by a stone jetty, the Honora rocking gently at the dock. She froze.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I feel odd. Like déjà vu. I can’t seem to shake the feeling I’ve been here before.”

Daniel sucked in a breath. He needed to say, Yes, love. You’ve been here with me. But the words died in his throat. Instead, he shrugged. “Maybe in a past life.”

He gestured down the dock to an outdoor bar doing a lively business serving brunch. “We’ll get you a cola with no ice and an order of conch fritters. You’ll feel better.”

Surprise lit Maria’s face as he realized his blunder. How would he know that conch fritters were her favorite, or that she drank soda with no ice?

He was grateful when a local woman approached carrying woven palm hats and shell bracelets. Seeing Maria’s frown, she asked, “Been a long sail, has it?”

Maria waved a hand. “You can’t imagine. I wanted to kiss solid ground.”

The woman laughed. “That’d be why I’m here forever. Too long a stretch across that pretty water for my liking.”

Daniel patted Maria’s shoulder. “It won’t take long before she finds her sea legs.”

She shot Maria a laughing glance. “If I lost my sea legs with this captain, I’d have need of a lap to keep me safe.”

Again, to his surprise, Maria laughed. “Oh, I managed without a lap. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices.”

The woman appraised Daniel from head to foot as if inspecting goods to purchase, obviously liking what she saw. Her mouth twisted into a toothy smile. She winked at Maria.

“Well, you keep playing hard to get, sugar. He’ll be taffy in your hands in no time.”

Daniel and Maria groaned in harmony.

The woman chuckled, lifting her wares. “Would you like to buy a bracelet?”

Maria waved her away. “Perhaps on our way back.”

The woman retreated, pointing to a beach chair beneath a palm tree with a tiny table holding palm fronds and small plastic boxes. “I’ll be right over there, darlin’. Be sure to come see me.”

Maria took the few steps to the edge of the dock and looked down. “She hasn’t got a clue.”

Daniel leaned closer, her soft powdery scent filling his senses, tossing him back to memories of her—here. “Maybe she’s right.”

She peered up at him over the rim of her sunglasses. “I can’t imagine you soft enough for anyone to mold.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, Princess. I’m thinking your hands could drive a hard bargain with me.”

Her gaze wandered to the grinning woman. She was close enough to catch every word. “I think I’ve heard enough, Captain.”

Chuckling, he ushered her down the dock. “Let me treat you to that cola.”

“Fine.” Maria waved as they passed the woman. “I loved her island accent. Think I’ll paint it.”

Daniel fell into step next to her, welcoming the change in subject. “How do you paint an accent?”

“You give it color and form, of course. But you wouldn’t have learned that in your fancy college.”